


Bleeding Effect of Passion

by Mass_Effecting_Your_Pants



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 13:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mass_Effecting_Your_Pants/pseuds/Mass_Effecting_Your_Pants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, you're not quite as intolerable as I initially thought, and if you weren't averse to repeating this with say, no clothes for example, or in a bed - though the wall is good - I would be open to such a suggestion..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleeding Effect of Passion

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanfiction.net under the following:-
> 
> Title: Bleeding Effect of Passion  
> Category: Games » Assassin's Creed  
> Author: Mass Effecting Your Pants  
> Language: English, Rating: Rated: M  
> Genre: Romance/Humor  
> Published: 01-14-10, Updated: 01-14-10  
> Chapters: 1, Words: 4,577

Desmond was jerked from reliving Ezio's memory quite suddenly and, despite the nausea and disorientation it caused, was rather relieved. The room was unnaturally quiet, awkwardly so, and when Desmond's vision sharpened it was to find Lucy, Rebecca and Shaun staring at him with varying expressions.

Lucy looked a little embarrassed, a slight flush to her face as she began flicking buttons, and mumbled something that sounded like an apology for the unexpected and swift desynchronisation. Rebecca was suddenly bent double as she guffawed loudly and Shaun's tone was more amused than his usual wanker sarcasm.

"Well," Shaun was saying, swivelling his chair to face his computer once more, "Leonardo da Vinci _was_ rumoured to be a homosexual."

"Yes," Desmond finally managed, sitting up in the Animus, "but Ezio was _not_."

"Well _clearly_ da Vinci managed to change your ancestor's mind," Rebecca's words were breathy and fast as she dissolved in to laughter once more.

Desmond's mind flashed him a few highlights of the memory he saw before Lucy disconnected him; a usual visit to the brilliant artist to decipher a newly found codex page that had fallen apart to become touches and passionate kisses, more than likely leading toward something much more intense. Desmond felt his heart race a little and shook his head, alarmed at how the imagery affected him.

And then a thought struck him.

"Why did that memory even surface?" he pressed, asking the room in general. "I doubt it contains any necessary information."

Rebecca grinned. "It might...we may have to watch it anyway...just in case."

Lucy shook her head, exasperated but still uncomfortable. "If it is a strong and important memory for Ezio, we may not be able to bypass it."

Desmond frowned, not keen on what Lucy seemed to be suggesting. "Ezio had been with a couple of women...we never had to relive those events."

"They were obviously meaningless trysts," Shaun drawled, not bothering to look away from his monitor and still tapping at his keyboard. "We know from Ezio's memories that he and Leonardo were exceptionally good friends, and now we know it was mayhaps a tad _more_ than that. If this particular memory holds such deep meaning for your ancestor, it will be difficult to move past it without reliving it."

"Difficult?" Desmond repeated hopefully. "Not impossible then?"

"It will take some time-" Lucy started, but Shaun scoffed and darted a glare over his glasses at her.

"Time that we _don't_ have to spare!" he transferred his glare to Desmond. "You don't have the luxury of being picky about what memories you relive, Desmond, despite your homophobia."

"Shaun," Lucy warned, but Desmond's temper had flared.

"Who the fuck said anything about hating gays?!" he scowled, half-rising from the Animus in anger. "My concern was about reliving such a personal memory! If it's such a strong memory, I imagine it ought to remain private!"

Shaun rolled his eyes. "Ezio's been dead for centuries; I doubt he has much to say on the matter."

"It just feels wrong alright!" Desmond exploded, sitting back down heavily and arms crossed defensively. "It feels like, I don't know, spying or intruding on something that wasn't ever meant to be seen by anyone else. I don't like it."

Shaun opened his mouth but Lucy shot him a glare. He shrugged stiffly and returned to his computer, obviously annoyed.

"Look, Desmond," she began gently. "I understand. We understand, but we really can't afford the time or resources to bypass this memory with force."

After a long moment, Desmond slumped. She was right. He knew she was right, but goddammit that didn't mean he had to like it. He settled back in the Animus, holding his right hand up for Rebecca to attach the monitor to his index finger. As he closed his eyes and attempted to relax during the synchronisation, Desmond couldn't help but pause on what was truly unnerving him about viewing this particular memory.  
  
Yes, reliving such an intimate moment belonging to someone else held a great deal of discomfort, but it was Desmond's own mind and body that he was concerned about. He'd already caught himself looking at Shaun in _entirely_ the wrong way, and the Brit was an insufferable dick. The last thing he needed was the bleeding effect complicating things further in any way, be it fantasies of Ezio's memories or an even stronger pull toward Shaun.

But Desmond didn't have much longer to think about it as he was thrown in to the beginning of the memory once more, bracing himself to experience Ezio and da Vinci's changing relationship firsthand.

X - X - X - X - X - X

Ezio pulled off his hood as he knocked on Leonardo's door, favouring his entire right side as he didn't bother waiting for an invitation to come in. Limping through the artist's workshop, he found Leonardo bent over a large diagram of...Ezio squinted and cocked his head to the side, but still had no idea.

The noise of a chair complaining about his weight made the artist jump slightly and look up, and Ezio couldn't help but return the pleased smile Leonardo always gave him when he visited.

"Oh, Ezio! I didn't hear you come in, though I suppose that's only natural, considering."

Ezio's smile turned teasing. "Yes, your unawareness and distraction will get you in to trouble, I'm sure of it."

Leonardo looked thoughtful. "Hmm, I meant because you're an assassin, but your argument has some merit, I will admit."

He clapped his hands together and leaned forward as he stood before Ezio, eyes alight. "So, my friend, how can I be of service?"

The assassin chuckled at his friend's eagerness, ignoring as always the unintentional additional connotations his brain supplied him with at Leonardo's question. He reached in to his layers of clothing, suppressing a pained grimace at the movement before presenting a new codex page with a slight flourish, relishing the way Leonardo's whole face shone with excitement.

"Another codex page! How exciting!" he pushed aside a great many probably more important things from his bench and spread the rolled parchment open, scrutinising it closely as he murmured to himself.

Ezio watched the artist work, not minding how he had been forgotten as Leonardo studied the codex page. He liked watching him, which he didn't think about too closely, but it also gave him a moment to assess how badly he was injured. This particular codex page had been in a highly guarded area and was rather difficult to escape with.

He had enlisted the help of a few nearby thieves to lure the guards away, but judging from the loud whistle to warn him, the distraction hadn't gone exactly to plan. As such, the warning was given entirely too late and, though Ezio had the codex page in hand, he’d been trapped inside the single entry small alcove that housed it. It was the first time the assassin had been close to panic and the trickle of fear effected his fighting movement, not allowing him to escape entirely unscathed.

Darting another quick glance to ensure Leonardo was well distracted, Ezio quietly slipped in to his friend's washroom. After carefully removing the pieces of leather armour protecting his chest and shoulders, he lifted his shirt to inspect the damage. The jagged slice up the side of his torso was angry, bloody and deep, and just looking at it made Ezio pale and sway slightly. Other people's blood was much easier to deal with.

He sat on the edge of the tub to steady himself, mindful of not getting blood all over the place, and wondered what to do. He swore in surprise when Leonardo called his name.

"Oh, uh, in the bathroom, my friend," Ezio tried to sound unconcerned. "Could you please, uh, fetch me a bandage...and perhaps some disinfectant?"

The artist's response was quick even as he rifled through his medical supplies. "You are injured? Ezio, you should have said."

The assassin chuckled weakly, staring at his injury through the mirror. "You worry too much. It's nothing to make a fuss of. Just a small-"

A sharp intake of breath at the door had Ezio meeting his friend's eyes through the mirror.

"-cut..?"

Leonardo was quickly beside his friend, shaking his head and muttering he directed Ezio to peel his shirt off as he soaked a soft cloth in warm water. He dabbed at the injury, his expression somewhere between concerned and disbelieving at the assassin's instant hiss of pain.

"Just a small cut, Ezio?" he teased, though attempted to soften his actions nevertheless.

Ezio made a short noncommittal noise, far too busy staring at an invisible point of interest on the washroom wall pretending his wound hurt far less than it did.

After a few minutes the wound was clean, but very much open. Leonardo sighed.

"You need stitches."

Ezio stared at him as though he had suggested removing a perfectly fine leg.

"No, no, it's-" he started to reach for his shirt but was stopped by a surprisingly firm grip from his friend.

"It is not fine," and it was perhaps Leonardo's serious tone that halted Ezio's resistance the most. "I will fetch a needle and thread. Do not move, my friend."

Ezio was left by himself for a moment, giving him ample time to consider what it would feel like to have his wound sutured, which gave him the quite appealing idea of running while he had the chance. But Leonardo was quickly by his side once more, a needle sterilising in a glass of boiling water in his hands. He set down the glass and a spool of thread, and put a calming hand on Ezio's shoulder.

"Ezio, this will be painful."

The assassin lifted a corner of his mouth weakly, eyes fixed on his friend's boots. He didn't doubt it. He continued to stare at those boots as Leonardo prepared the needle and thread, and finally raised his eyes when his friend gripped his chin and made him.

"Try to relax."

And then Leonardo carefully began to suture Ezio's wound, and stopped when the assassin jerked and let loose a colourful string of curses.

"No," Ezio breathed, panting heavily. "No, no, Leonardo. I can't do this."

Leonardo bit his lip at the admittance, circling an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Calm down, Ezio, calm."

They sat quietly until Ezio's breathing was shaking only slightly, then Leonardo drew his hand up fast and slammed his friend's head in to the edge of the basin, crumpling the assassin to the floor unconscious.

When Ezio woke later, it was with a low groan of throbbing pain to his head and side. Leonardo was leaning over him, expression a mixture of guilt, concern and stark relief.

"Ezio, I must apologise deeply for-"

Ezio reached out and grabbed the artist's forearm, squeezing in understanding. "I am a difficult patient, I think. While I now ache in a few more places, I find that more bearable than being stitched while conscious."

Leonardo looked doubtful.

Ezio let out a short laugh. "I am thanking you, Leonardo, for knocking me out. But I don't think I'll be moving for a long moment, if that is fine?"

"O-of course. Would you like something to eat or drink?"

Ezio took in how his friend wouldn't quite meet his eyes, his quietly sorrowful look. Did it bother Leonardo that he had hurt him that much?

"Some tea would be welcome."

Leonardo disappeared almost immediately, leaving Ezio to his thoughts.

He was extremely thankful for Leonardo's actions. It shamed Ezio to think back on the weakness to pain, but it had been excruciating. Worse than any injury he had sustained. He slipped a hand down his side to glance over the wound, but it was bandaged firmly. Looking around, Ezio was startled to find himself in what appeared to be Leonardo's private quarters. He smoothed out the bed sheets distractedly, heart picking up pace as he considered that he was in his friend's bed.  
  
He settled back against the pillows a little restlessly, turning his head in to them slightly when he recognised the waft of fragrance that was Leonardo. And then he sat bolt upright, moaning at the sharp stab of pain in his side and wave of dizziness that sent him falling back in to bed once more.

Ezio stared at the ceiling without really seeing as he waited for the pain to ebb, finally realising that his thoughts of Leonardo were perhaps a little impure and rather dangerous. He was still in the same position when Leonardo returned, but now it was he who couldn't quite meet his friend's eyes.

There was a soft clatter as Leonardo set down a tray on the bedside table.

"Some tea, Ezio."

"Ah, thank you," Ezio replied stiffly, though did not move.

However he jumped as though burned when Leonardo touched his hand, and then swore as hot tea soaked through the sheets to his bare chest and torso. The artist attempted to mop up the scalding tea immediately while apologising ceaselessly, and Ezio was breathless with pain as his friend unknowingly dabbed roughly at his stitched injury. It took a moment for Leonardo to understand why Ezio's hands shot out to stop all movement, but then he began his apology anew and with more vigour.

Ezio was close to laughter as he interrupted Leonardo, despite the pain. "Stop, stop, my friend. It is my fault in any case. You startled me and I upset the tea. The blame is mine alone."

Leonardo's face held only doubt and guilt, but then his expression cleared completely and he simply stared at Ezio, eyes intense. It sent a trickle of heat down Ezio's body, and yet there was no explanation for the gaze.

"My friend," Leonardo said after a long moment, his voice low. "What are you doing?"

His tone sent the assassin's skin prickling with anticipation, but the question only puzzled him...until he glanced at his hands as Leonardo did. Ezio watched as his fingers held Leonardo's, thumbs smoothing over his friend's knuckles over and over.

"I..." said Ezio by way of explanation, before snatching his hands away and staring at the new tea stain on the sheets with great interest.

Even through his embarrassment he could feel Leonardo moving closer, leaning over him.

"I didn't say I was displeased," he offered quietly, before pulling back slightly to look at Ezio fully.

"Oh," the assassin replied.

In light of this new information, he chanced a glance at Leonardo, only to find he couldn't look away. Up close it was all the more clear how attractive the painter was, how intense and intelligent those blue eyes were.

And if Leonardo was leaning closer, eyes flicking down to glance at Ezio's lips, the assassin certainly didn't mind.

Ezio lifted a hand and found it fit snugly at Leonardo's neck, a perfect place in which to pull the other man closer faster. Which he did.

The feeling of kissing Leonardo wasn't one Ezio was prepared for; but then after experiencing it, it was a feeling he decided he wasn't keen on letting go. Heat burned up his body that could hardly be credited to the spilt tea, and a moan was threatening to escape that was definitely not to do with pain.  
  
Ezio felt overwhelmed and blessed that Leonardo's passion was his personality; that it leaked in to everything about the man. But it was undoing Ezio far too quickly. As well Leonardo seemed to be losing some control. Their initial touch of lips had become deep, open-mouthed. The arm holding Ezio up shook before giving way, ending the kiss as it sent him back in to the pillows. It gave him a chance to breathe and look at Leonardo, but that stole his breath once more.  
  
Lips moist and parted, eyes darkened and an expression that heated Ezio's blood. And perhaps his face said something similar to Leonardo, for the artist paused only slightly before following Ezio's fall. Was on the bed. On Ezio. And that, thought the assassin, was very much acceptable.  
  
But both men had forgotten Ezio's injuries until he cried out sharply, Leonardo accidentally jostling his side. The artist whispered a sincere apology and made to move, but Ezio would have none of that.

"No," he said quickly, pulling the artist down for a kiss that missed, lips touching a cheek instead. "Just...be careful."

Leonardo smiled, shifting his body down so his weight was on Ezio's hips, but that startled both men in to a shared silence as they realised how they were affecting each other. Leonardo leaned close again, resting on his elbows to keep from bumping Ezio's wound, his breath dampening the assassin's ear as he ghosted kisses along his neck and jaw. Ezio thought he was experienced, but no woman had ever had him moan from mere kisses.

"You should allow me to paint you," Leonardo murmured between kisses as he trailed toward the sheet covering Ezio's bare chest. "Canvas. Oil paints. For my private collection of course."

Ezio breathed out a laugh, which was twisted in to a choked moan as the artist licked at his chest.

"Mm," Leonardo glanced up at him playfully. "You taste like tea."

Ezio raised a brow cheekily, still breathing fast. "Are you sure?"

Leonardo licked a nipple. "Definitely. My favourite brew in fact."

Ezio's brain had shut down, he was sure of it. Maybe in a moment he'd be able to speak, but his friend turned lover didn't allow him the chance as he continued to lick and nibble.

Desmond suddenly loosed a swift phrase in Italian that dissolved in to an erotically drawn out moan.  
  
Lucy and Shaun turned and stared at him and Rebecca slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Holy fucking hell," she said, muffled somewhat by her fingers. "Right then, that there...that was fucking _hot_."

The three of them had quickly discussed and decided not to watch this particular memory and had busied themselves with other tasks. But events were getting complicated by a memory that was apparently not overly important to their goals.

"Does that usually happen?" Shaun asked, for once close to serious. "You know, repeating or reacting to images he sees in the Animus, because I'm fairly certain Desmond doesn't know a lick of Italian."

"He doesn't know a lick of Arabic either," said Lucy, who was a tad pink because she _did_ understand some Italian. "But he would occasionally repeat phrases while reliving Altair's memories as well."

"Uh, guys?" Rebecca sounded uncertain and a little amused. "I think Desmond's, er, _reacting_."

A quick glance at Desmond's jeans had Lucy marching herself and a rather unwilling Rebecca from the room. "M-maybe you could deal with this, Shaun? Thanks."

"H-hey! Wait a minute!"

Shaun was out of his chair but the women were gone.

"Well shit."

And what exactly was he supposed to do, he wondered. If he pulled Desmond from the memory, they'd just have to finish it in another session and that'd waste more time. So, what, he mused, he had to sit here and wait until it was over with?

"Oooooh," Shaun came to a fast conclusion, not really liking it but understanding why Lucy chose him.

There was going to be one of two outcomes to this situation, Shaun reasoned. One, the intensity of the memory was going to make Desmond jizz in his pants or two, he was going to have a raging hard-on that he'll want to get rid of asap. Either way, it would be a little less humiliating if it was only Shaun present. A little less embarrassing if it was another guy saying, "Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up".

Course of action decided on, Shaun sat back down and swivelled to face his computer once more...and swivelled full circle to face the Animus when Desmond moaned again.

...Huh, thought Shaun. Desmond was particularly more tolerable when he was quiet and unconscious, as was usually the case when he used the Animus; but he was starting to see another way in which Desmond could perhaps be even more tolerable.

"Quite tolerable, in fact," Shaun wondered aloud as he moved to stand beside the Animus.

Standing so close, he could see the shine of sweat on Desmond's brow; the way his lips pulled on the scar; his eyes flicking fast under their lids; the unconscious grip on the edge of the machine's seat.  
  
What ever da Vinci was doing to Ezio, he was doing a mighty fine job.  
  
Shaun's eyes widened as Desmond breathed out fast and hard, muttering something low in the foreign language that, judging by Shaun's rusty middle school Italian, was definitely not "Good morning. Excuse me but what time is it?". He stumbled back a step when Desmond lifted his hips shallowly; an action that had the effect of making Shaun feel perverted since he was effectively standing there watching the other man get off.

"Shit."

He spun away from the Animus, not thrilled about how his own clothes were beginning to feel tight and hot. Adjusting his collar a little and then his glasses, Shaun took a breath and thought about what the hell he ought to do, his breath stuttering and thoughts completely derailing when Desmond gasped sharply. The kind of gasp, Shaun's brain managed, one would make when-

Leonardo flicked his tongue again and again against Ezio's heated skin, darkened brown eyes locked on blue as he continued. The assassin closed his eyes against the far too evocative sight, offering his lover a self-depreciating short chuckle.

"Leonardo, as embarrassing as it is to admit, you'll ruin any further action if you keep doing that."

The artist chuckled deep in his throat before pausing a moment to speak, making Ezio moan with a slight laugh at the vibrations.

"That's quite okay, my friend...you can pay me back in kind and _more_ when you are healed, no?"

Oh god yes, Ezio thought. Or perhaps he had spoken aloud, because suddenly Leonardo was no longer slow and teasing.  
  
Ezio grabbed and held anything he could reach as Leonardo used his mouth and tongue with all the passion the assassin could have hoped for, and a great deal more. The sounds that fell from his lips only seemed to spur Leonardo until Ezio was writhing in pleasure, and a little pain as his movements pulled at his stitches. But that was fast forgotten when Ezio's knees gripped his lover's shoulders and his hands fisted the sheets, body wracked with nothing but intense pleasure.

As his breathing slowed toward a rate that resembled somewhat normal, Ezio rested a hand on Leonardo's head as he tipped himself to the assassin's uninjured side. Nestled comfortably in to his neck, Leonardo murmured a few words that sent a different sort of warmth lighting Ezio's body from the inside out.

"On meeting you my friend, art and my work..? They became my second love."

Desmond, however, emerged in to real life dizzy at the sudden desynchronisation and more turned on than he had ever been in his life.

Of course the first face that swam in to view was Shaun's.

"The memory is complete, right?" Shaun asked, abnormally serious and, Desmond thought, a little nervous and jumpy.

Desmond, however, was more concerned by the fact that he was about ready to rub up against the first thing in his sight, strangely relieved that Lucy and Rebecca didn't seem to be around.

"It's only fair," Desmond heard himself saying, his voice a mite rougher than normal, "that I give you fair warning: if you don't get out of this room right now, I'm going to jump you."

Shaun took off his glasses and set them on Rebecca's work station. "Is that a promise or a threat, Desmond?"

"Both."

And when Shaun didn't move, Desmond did.  
  
Flinging the monitor off of his finger, he launched himself bodily at the other man. They stumbled backward until Shaun's back hit the wall hard, breath knocked out for a moment but Desmond wasn't ready to wait. His mouth slanted against Shaun's neck, ear, mouth, tongue and yeah, the IT tech thought Desmond was very much tolerable.

"I don't think," Desmond breathed hard against Shaun's neck, hands so far under the other's shirt his stomach was bared, "I can even wait to take anything off."

Shaun might've laughed sarcastically, might've questioned Desmond's stamina, but he was feeling the same way after watching the other man moan and twitch in the Animus for close to half an hour.

"Ngh," he managed instead, and he felt Desmond grin against his skin.

And then one of Shaun's legs was locked around Desmond's waist and his tongue was definitely in the other's mouth and the force of their movement had him nearly off the ground and only supported by Desmond and the wall and the roll of their hips had his heart racing against his orgasm and shit, he still had all his clothes on.

But then Desmond went still for a moment before moaning long and nipping a little too hard at Shaun's lips, and it was that combination that caused a similar reaction from the IT tech.

Breathing rough and leaning against each other, the subsiding pleasure began to make the situation awkward, and Desmond wondered how to ask Shaun-

"You know, you're not quite as intolerable as I initially thought, and if you weren't averse to repeating this with, say, no clothes for example or in a bed - though the wall is good - I would be open to such a suggestion...in case you were interested..."

"Heh," Desmond was taken off guard but pleasantly so. "Yeah, I'm interested.”


End file.
